WITH THE SCARS TO PROVE IT

SCENE SETTING

There was never anything romantic about the journey to Botany Bay; except the hint of beauty in the name.  The First Fleet, comprising of 11 ships seven hundred and eighty or so convicts, naval officers, and some passengers docked there; in mid-January 1788.    Irrespective of age, the convicts were chained and treated like scum by people without a heart but plenty of pomp. It was evident aboard ship too. Minor crimes like stealing a loaf of bread for survival were punished by seven years of transportation; this included children.  On 20 January 1788 Governor Arthur Phillip, along with some trusted men, found a more suitable place to dock called Sydney Cove. Among other things deeming it more suitable than Botany Bay, was freshwater. He raised the British flag, naming the penal settlement New South Wales on 26 January 1788.

Eventually, a little city emerged. The unloved and unwanted always worked in fear of the gossip backlash as well as the lash... At least on steady land, albeit a land of trees with odd aromas, and creatures of the wild, it was better than the months on a rotting rat-infested hulk and then the long slow journey to the penal settlement amid stormy seas. There was nowhere else for convicts to go once America acquired its independence from Britain; the survivors among them could hold their heads high. Sydney Cove; though initially, a penal settlement held its own, with the scars to prove it. A country whose landscape was rugged, whose indigenous peoples were awed by the arrival of the ships, and, centuries later some, not all would resent the British people, the history of the nation. This entirely fictitious story is set in the early years.

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“Did you see that Lil? he stole my biscuit.”

Bessie the crowd-pleaser, the attention seeker was bullying one of the younger convicts hardly more than a child. It was one of the rare times when they could get fresh air, shuffling along the deck to pay their respects to someone who had died.

“You mark my words, son, if I report this, you will get a flogging.” the hideous laughter attracted attention. Of course, she, Bessie intended stirring up trouble.

“Quiet” roared one of the young officers “have you no respect for the dead?”

Lil and Bessie did not particularly care, they clung to their seniority as though they were in an aristocratic home. The child, visibly shaken, fainted. No one but the man they called Giraffe, cared. He stood near him, and while he could not draw attention to the matter, Giraffe waited until the boy came to. It took a few moments for him to get his bearings.

“Better?” Giraffe asked the child. He shook her head:

“Did not eat it” he showed Giraffe, who knew what he had to do. Taking it from him, Giraffe said

“I’ll fix this.”

Of course, Bessie saw it but rather than getting herself in hot water, kept quiet. It was sufficient to know that one of the officers heard and wasted no time in reporting the incident. The officer had dreams of reaching seniority with the navy, he could not be seen to allow disobedience.

Anticipation hovered like a menacing cloud, for yet another flogging was about to start, one of the last aboard ship. Any onlooker could see, the convict was young, thin, quiet and had been charged with stealing; it was no longer a novelty. He hung as though resigned to his fate, in the period between wanting the pain to start and finish, and wishing there was an easier alternative. A man of senior rank supervised the proceedings while a young officer took the whip in his hands.

Whrr one… whrrr… two, whrrr… three. Soon his back was all blood and no skin, but the flogging went on. They let him hang in the hot sun as a warning to those who thought they would get away with stealing rations. Young Harry watched horrified, he felt ill but no one noticed his need; nausea, like sweat, was part of life, you got rid of ‘it’ overboard and moved on. He could not stand it, that he, Giraffe, should take his place and do so willingly. What if he died? He looked over towards his left; Lil and Bessie stood watching carefully. If they told an officer the truth they too would be flogged; there was never any leniency on board ship or beyond, and if ever any two women needed flogging it was the terrible twins.

Giraffe did not see the numbers waiting for the flogging, he took it like a man. He was innocent of the crime but he knew who had committed it; a youngster hardly more than a child bullied because of his stature, forgotten by the throng, hungry enough to steal a weevilled biscuit. He could not have stood thirty lashes but such was his fate. When questioned, Giraffe said he had done it. They who feasted on the better meat, and drank their wine; who had never been hungry in their lives judged the convicts as sinners. There amidst the pious smiles, the pain, and the heat, John Hawkins better known as Giraffe, gritted his teeth determined to survive and win.

Within a few weeks, one of the officers had taken a land grant; choosing ten convict men and two women. He wisely chose Giraffe full knowing that Henry would not survive without his protection.  George Foster had also witnessed the exchange between man and boy on the ship and kept it to himself.  Soon the team was working well, despite the lack of rations, the need for rum to be the reward, and the unsuitable farming and building implements.    Things progressed as well as could be expected but in comparison to what was considered acceptable in London, it was basic and yet adequate for his needs.

Fire FIYAR.” No one knew where it started but they did know the dangers.

They ran. They had so little water. Choosing instead to get what they could as far away from danger,  as possible, including the meagre livestock, all hands were needed. George, stood mesmerised. He ran towards the action looking like a fish out of water. He followed Giraffe’s lead and lifted and carried what he could.  Despite their hard work the fire threatened to weave its way towards the newly finished three-roomed cottage. Harry saw this and ran for Giraffe. George noticed too.  As he ran, the first sparks touched the cottage walls; yet, heedless of anything but valuables, attempted to enter the building. Giraffe ran getting to the entrance in time to see the devastation.

“No Boss, better to leave…” but his words went unheeded

George entered the home he had prepared for his future. So wrapped in the devastation he did not see the outer wall structure collapse and hit him. Giraffe did though, lifting the by then unconscious George, he ran only barely aware of the weight to safety. The scanty clothing Giraffe had was no protection against the flames; his hair was singed and the skin on his arms was burned, Suddenly the rain began, its heavy downfall dousing the flames sufficiently for there not to be a further danger. George now seated on an enormous rock looked over to where Giraffe and Harry were. Harry was crying fearing that his mate and protector would not survive. George slowly went over to Harry.

“We will look after him Harry, you and I together. It is the least we can do isn’t it?”

“What if?” Harry looked up at the boss

“Then I will look after you, Harry. You need never be hungry again.”

“You knew?”

Yes,” George looked down at the boy then at Giraffe “look he is waking up Is there water for him?”

George also knew what he had to do.

ONE MONTH LATER

There was a hush in the room in anticipation of an event rarely seen in the colony, but which would occur more often as it grew. Only the Governor’s consent legalised pardons given upon the recommendation of those who knew the man or woman previously known as a convict about to take his or her place in society. John Hawkins was a humble man. Taller than most, gentler that you would expect, protector of children and the most vulnerable. Governor Arthur Phillip had acknowledged this and approved the pardon. Everyone knew there would be some who would always remember his past, but the future of the colony would grow despite the cynicism. It would grow because men like John Hawkins, also referred to as Giraffe could put the past behind them and do what needed to be done for the good of the country later known as Australia.

George sat quietly waiting for the ceremony to start. John Hawkins stood a little embarrassed and Harry was told to stand beside him, in case John needed water.

The Governor spoke of the recommendation made by the former naval officer George Foster that from this day John Hawkins was a free man. He then called Harry Smith over He too was pardoned but as he was a minor Mr Foster was to become the guardian.

Giraffe was pleased for Harry He did not know what the future held for himself but he heard a whisper that Mr Foster had ideas for him too. He had earned this reward, he had the scars to prove it.